Warmth
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Collins comes home late at night to find that Angel has fallen asleep waiting up for him. Fluff sets in...no surprise there. NO SMUT, but there's a teeny bit of langauge...i'm rating it down anyway. Oneshot.


**A/N: **Ah, fluff. I never run out of it! Especially AngelCollins fluff...by the way, is anyone seeing Adam and Anthony soon? I heard that Rodney Hicks is coming back as Benny on Sept. 13...can anyone confirm that?

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The door gave a small _thunk_ as Collins tried and failed to close it silently. He winced and lightened his touch, somehow managing to push the humidity-swollen door back into the frame without anymore noise. Angel wasn't a particularly light sleeper, but Collins had a thing about being quiet around sleeping people.

The door finally settled into place and Collins bolted it, sighing softly with relief. A long, _long_ day of teaching and then a somewhat unwelcome chat with the dean about his "unorthodox" reading assignments were more than enough to run him ragged. It would have been easier to bear if he'd at least had something to drink, but there was no bar close enough for him to make it there and back between classes; plus, by the time the dean was done with him, all the places without sleaze squishing out of the barstools were closed. All Collins wanted right now was to collapse on something reasonably soft. And if there was a God (not that years of living in the East Village hadn't knocked that belief out of him long ago), he would be granted that small favor at least.

Still careful to be quiet, Collins kicked off his boots and gently placed his bag on the ground by the door. Shrugging his coat off of one arm, he used the other to flick on the light. The bedroom was blocked from the living room with a purple quilt Mimi had apparently hung up a while ago; Angel wouldn't be bothered by the light. Collins hung up his coat, checked the safety chain and turned to head towards bed—when he glanced at the couch and stopped in his tracks.

Angel was asleep, but not in the bedroom. She was curled up on the couch, legs folded and head tilted forward like a cat. She had on a pair of loose yellow pants and very large T-shirt that read in red block letters, HEY. A magazine was lying neatly on the floor beside her; she'd probably put it there before she'd gone to sleep. In the weak glow of the light Collins had turned on, she seemed vaguely fuzzy and warm, like an oil painting: but an oil painting that conveyed a sense of serenity and peace no artist, however talented and skilled, could achieve.

Collins couldn't help smiling. Padding over to the couch in his sock feet, he sat down very carefully beside her. Angel's back was to the wall, and her head rested on the arm of the couch. From where he sat, the light threw shadows across her features. Her eyelids seemed almost purplish, her lips a dark shade of brown; her skin itself seemed deeper in color, as though she had been sitting in sun for a long time. Light or no light, she looked perfect to Collins.

Angel's head had fallen to the side, exposing the side of her neck. Collins leaned forward slowly and touched his lips to the skin just underneath her jaw. It was warm and soft, and Collins didn't pull away. He closed his eyes and wished he could just stay like that forever: his body leaning on Angel's with her smell and her skin so close to him, yellow light moving through his eyelids. He felt the weariness of the day closing over him, and his muscles began to relax…

"Mmm…baby, that you?" Angel mumbled, stirring beneath him. Collins sat back and placed a hand on her hip as she yawned and rolled onto her back, legs unfolding across his lap. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, Angel passed a hand over her forehead as she tried to wake up faster.

"Didn't mean to wake you up," Collins said softly, sliding his hand down her leg and squeezing her knee. Angel gazed blearily at him, the last vestiges of sleep slowly clearing from her eyes.

"It's okay…I was waiting up for a while, though. Something happen at NYU?" she asked, stifling another yawn. Collins sighed and settled back into the couch, keeping one hand on her knee and absently rubbing her ankle with the other.

"The dean was talking his ass off about my assignments…seemed to think that books with certain kinds of 'graphic imagery' weren't appropriate philosophy texts." Collins rolled his eyes. "I would've asked him about the last time he went a night without dropping in on clubs that exhibited firsthand 'graphic imagery', but he probably would've just tacked another half hour onto his lecture."

"You could just blow up a chem lab or something," Angel suggested. "Then you wouldn't have to deal anymore."

"And I wouldn't have a job anymore either. Besides, they won't let me anywhere near explosives. MIT shared my record, I believe," he said with a snort. Angel smiled.

"So I gather it was a good day?" she asked, her hands folded over her stomach. Collins sighed and slid his body out from underneath Angel's legs, shifting around to lie on his stomach between her thighs, his arms crossed over her hips and his chin resting on his forearms. His legs hung over the end of the couch, crossed at the ankle. Angel propped herself up on her elbows and glanced down at him with both affection and amusement. "I see my sarcasm is well observed."

"I've been dead on my feet all day…" he murmured, letting his eyelids fall. Angel chuckled.

"Now you're dead on my feet. Get it?" she said brightly, pushing her feet under his legs and wiggling her toes. Collins groaned at the bad joke. Angel giggled and ran the tip of her finger over his eyebrows.

"You have a warped sense of humor," Collins murmured, brushing his fingers over the bare skin on Angel's abdomen where his arms had pushed her shirt up. Angel pretended to ignore him, though she couldn't stop the muscles in her pelvis from tensing with pleasure.

"It's sort of inconvenient…I've been sleeping for hours and now I'm wide awake, but you've been up for so long that you're almost asleep," she remarked, still tracing his brow with her finger.

"I would actually _be_ asleep if you weren't talking…sorry, sorry," Collins added quickly as Angel's fingernail pricked the bridge of his nose. Adding to the apology, he slid his arms apart until his chin was resting only on his two hands and spread his fingers wide, kissing her stomach through the gaps. Angel lay back and placed her hands on either side of his head, his skin warm beneath her fingers. Collins kissed her stomach once more and then turned his head to kiss her palms.

"Thanks for staying up for me," he whispered. Angel closed her eyes and stroked the soft ridges of his ears with her thumbs. Outside, it had started to drizzle, adding more moisture to the already humid air. Collins felt exhausted; Angel's touch was definitely not helping him stay awake. Letting his hands fall to either side of her waist, he rested his head on her abdomen and closed his eyes. Her skin was so warm and soft, just like that spot on her neck… Angel's breathing put him to sleep before he could call back the sweetness of that last kiss.

Angel could feel that Collins was asleep. He rose and fell with her breath, his head pleasantly heavy on her body. His body heat was warming her legs and his hands were still loosely pressed to her waist. Angel smiled to herself and, without looking, gently tapped a small scar near his temple. It was the last reminder of his mugging on Christmas Eve; so tiny that it couldn't been seen even when you were looking straight at him…but large enough so that Angel knew it as well as she knew every other part of him. Now she felt the minute knot of skin beneath her fingers and curled her toes in pleasure. He was Collins…and that was all she wanted.

When Collins woke up in the morning, he found that his face was stuck with sweat to Angel's stomach. Groggily peeling himself away from her, he glanced up at his lover's face. She was half-smiling, as though she was having a good dream, and her hands were folding over her chest.

Collins lay still for a moment. Then, careful not to jostle her, he stretched forward until his face was inches from her. Using all the gentleness in the world, he bowed his head and kissed that same place on her neck. It was still warm and soft.


End file.
